A Fate Deferred
by bando2
Summary: AU What if Kingsley Shacklebolt stumbled upon a mistreated Harry Potter? Can he let the son of two of the wizards he most respected grow up thinking he is worthless and unloved? Certainly not!
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This chapter is very short. Almost a prolouge. The next chapter will be up in a day or two, just need to finish cleaning it up. Also unbeated and un Britpicked. Please let me know if you see anything glaring.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and I am not profiting in anyway from the writing of this except as an escape from real life stressors.**

* * *

Kingsley Shacklebolt was prone to introspection when he was idle, and as the summer began the anniversary of events he would rather not remember rose to meet him making him even more prone to it. He rode to block it all out. He tried to convince himself that he wasn't forgetting. He could deal with the memories most of the year, but summer was the time of should-have-been's.

Should have been seeing his father's pleased smile at his Hogwarts letter. Should have been watching his nephew chase fireflies on chubby legs. Should have been planning a wedding.

But he wasn't. Instead he was on an almost mandated vacation to 'Take some time for himself because he was working to hard.' If he didn't love his best friend so much he would hate her. So here he was, just his bike and the road and the open air. And hoping that this year and the years to come fate would be kinder to him.

"Boy Let's go now!"

Kingsley Shacklebot's dark fingers curled briefly around the handles of his motorbike as at the man's tone. It had taken many years and three hard years under the training of Alastor Moody, but his temper was finally in check. Still, he hated adults who talked like that to children. As he shut off his bike and removed his helmet he glanced at the large beefy man and the two boys beside him. It was easy to tell that one was his son. All he could see of the other was ill fitting clothes, a scrawny frame and a lot of messy black hair.

The internal debate raged within him for a moment. He was far from home and off duty, on a well deserved holiday, just him, his bike, and the wind in his face. He could walk away and it wouldn't be his problem. But his feet were already carrying him in the direction of the large man and the inside of the motorway service station. He had contacts in the Muggle world to handle such things if it came to that, but it was probably nothing. He bought a paper and watched from behind it as the man bought food and secured the table and pointed hurriedly to the loo scowling. The large boy settled himself with the tray of food and the smaller one hurried in the direction of the pointed finger. After a moment, Kingsley folded the paper and tucked it under his arm, following the boy There was nothing he could do if he didn't see bruises. He would just have to accept that.

He stopped at the sink set his paper in the edge and began to wash his hands. Moments later the boy was at the sink next to him and Kingsley was using all of his training to control the expression on his face. For there staring back at him were the unmistakable eyes of Lily Evans. He resisted the urge to flick his eyes upwards knowing that the mop of hair would be covering the scar. It was something of a relief, for it would make him difficult to recognize except those who had known either of his parents well.

Kingsley brought himself back from his musing and did another once over of the boy. There were no outward bruises, but this required more information. Luckily information gathering in the Muggle world was part of his specialty and the son of two of the people he had most respected was worthy of taking up what was left of his holiday.

He took extra care with his hands as Harry scurried back to the others. Then he got an over proced cup of tea and sat behind them reading his paper and watching the scene unfold. He didn't like what he saw. The big boy was obviously on his way through a second tray of food and Harry sat quietly through it all staring at his hands and obviously trying not to fidget.

"All done Dudley?" The man asked with a smile. "You won't go hungry on the last leg of the trip will you?"

The boy in question let out a burp, "I think I might need a bag of Smarties."

"Of course," the man chuckled fondly. "Come on boy," his voice turned harsh, "we'd better not have to stop because of you again. Understand?" Harry nodded mutely, looking at his beat up trainers and Kingsley's anger was enough to power the wandless tracking spell that he hit the three with. He was mildly surprised. He was aiming for just Harry, and usually he would have needed his wand but... He just shook his head. He was too old to let his emotions get the best of him. Moody would be beside himself. He watched them leave and mentally shrugged, it was over now, nothing he could do but learn from it. Fifteen minutes later he had finished his paper tossed it in the bin and headed back out to his bike. He followed signs to a nearby bed and breakfast, thankful that as an Auror- even an off duty one he was allowed to use spells with discretion in a Muggle area. He had a week left of his holiday and he figured his long ago promise to James to protect Lily now applied to their son.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: This chapter is not so short. There are two large chucks of flashbacks which are in italics. As this fic is completely written I am going to aim to update every day or two. Fair warning though I just started a new job. As usual unbeated and un Britpicked. Please let me know if you see anything glaring.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and I am not profiting in anyway from the writing of this except as an escape from real life stressors.**

* * *

Kingsley rolled over and groaned as the early morning summer light entered the room of the bed and breakfast where he was staying. For this holiday he had left most magic behind. Until he had run into Harry Potter last night in a motorway service stations of all things. He had a feeling this needed to be as free of magic as possible. He could only assume that Harry resided with his Muggle Aunt and Uncle. Lily had mentioned her sister once during their monthly patrols together his fifth year. Nothing she'd said had been favorable.

He sighed and accepted that he may as well get up before the memories got him off task. After showering and shaving he made the bed and perched on the end to think up a plan. Harry's guardians-whoever they were- had likely come from London and were currently stationary. He'd just checked the tracking charm. They were in Little Whinging, Surrey. He would need to find a library or better yet some local newspapers. Then he could figure out the best way to go about gathering information on young Harry. He needed to be discrete. The last thing he needed was for the wizarding world to descend on Harry because he had been careless.

With that in mind he got ready to leave. It was summer but as he was riding his bike he wore nicely fitting jeans and comfortable shoes, a plain dark grey t shirt and a leather jacket. The jacket would be warm but it was worth the protection. His wand was secured along the back of his neck. Just inside his shirt collar. Unfortunately the heat made long sleeves awkward and he might need to take off his jacket so he couldn't wear the arm holster that he favored. He picked up his wallet making sure his Auror identification was concealed and checking the amount of Muggle money he had. It would do he decided. He gathered up his helmet and locked the door of his room. He had work to do.

Fifteen minutes later he was sitting in a small cafe on the outskirts of Little Whinging reading the morning paper and attacking the eggs the waitress had put in front of him. He was less than five minutes from where the tracking charm was still relatively stationary. He had gone by the neighborhood and seen pristine rows of houses, and it was enough to let him know that it was likely where Harry and his guardians resided.

The bell above the shop door tinkled drawing his attention as two women close to his own age came in. Both carried bags of work and after ordering tea and scones, pulled out what looked like paperwork. He went back to his reading until a phrase in their conversation caught his ear.

"...turned Phyllis' hair blue last year. She swears he did and I saw her afterwards"

He turned to the crossword in his paper listening intently

"Come now, Mary Anne," the woman on the left cajoled, "he couldn't have "and I dare say it was the push she needed to retire anyway."

"Jane!" Mary Anne sounded scandalized.

"Well she did need to retire," Jane returned defensively. "Anyway," she continued, waving the other concerns away. "I'm worried about Harry, he doesn't have any friends, you know that big lump of a cousin of his scares them all away. He ended up on the roof for God's sake and insisted he didn't know how it happened. It's not normal." Jane's voice had risen in agitation and Mary Anne shushed her looking around furtively. Kingsley was the only one in the shop and he was apparently intent on his crossword as the women, obviously teachers at the local primary school began working on plans for the next school year. That gave him an inkling of an idea, but he forced himself to turn his attention to the puzzle for the next 10 minutes. He smiled when he turned to the next clue. It seemed even the paper was with him.

_[10. group voluntary labor]_

* * *

_"You have a sister," Kingsley was surprised, "all these months and you haven't mentioned her?" Merlin knew he had mentioned his sister enough. Complaining as any older brother would about the third year in the same house that liked to follow him around. Or rather she had until she started getting asked to Hogsmeade. Now she just yelled at him for scaring all the potential dates away. What was he supposed to do? It wasn't his fault the blokes couldn't handle a little warning to treat his sister right. _

_He shook his head and looked at the Head Girl, but she wasn't looking at him and her voice was shaky._

_"She's not magical...and well, she hates me. Mum and Dad reckon she's jealous but..." Lily sighed, "That doesn't make the names and looks hurt any less, and now she had a pompous git for a boyfriend and she won't tolerate anything abnormal." Lily's voice dripped with venom and it made Kingsley shiver even though he knew it wasn't directed at him. "Christmas hols were horrible," she continued softly. Then she shook it off. "So I don't talk about Petunia, much it's easy to be called Mudblood by people who you expect to hate you. It's much harder to handle "Freak" from someone who used to be your idol."_

Kingsley shook his head to clear the memory and stared at the empty notebook in front of him. Then he began to write. His family home, Boxwood, was a fully functioning farm and was on its way to being an accredited care home. His sister and Mum had left the country during the war, and Kingsley was left to do with the property as he pleased as long as he allowed Ollivander occasional access to the grove that had been supplying wand wood for as long as anyone could remember. It had been in his mother's pureblood family for generations, although as wizards originally from the islands they had cared less about blood than many of the old families in Britain.

Anyway, it would make a fine place to keep a child for a week, and the wards were his-that was to say top notch. There had been little Death Eater activity in the last five years and things had returned to normal for most people. He would have to see if he could sell it to the Dursleys as a program of sorts to scare kids away from doing things that would end them in a juvenile detention center. Then if he was still concerned he would go to Dumbledore. Surely he would see reason if Harry's safety was at risk. He had to.

* * *

The reconnaissance of what he now knew as the Dursley household was going well. And that was breaking Kingsley's heart. It had not been difficult to find Number Four Privet Drive, for young Harry was out front weeding the garden. By the looks of it he would have a painfully blistering sunburn by the time he was done. Kingsley itched to reach for his wand from where he crouched in the bushes disillusioned, and cast a sunblocking charm, but he stayed his hand. He didn't want to risk being discovered by doing magic; who knew what kind of extra wards Dumbledore had—rightly- put around the place.

So he sat and watched. He slipped inside when Harry was called for lunch and watched him down water and the meager sandwich like a dying man. He noticed Petunia, for he remembered her name now, reading through the mail with pursed lips. Harry watched her uneasily, but didn't say anything. Instead he just put his dishes away and continued outside to finish work on the garden.

Kingsley decided to look around the rest of the house. As an investigator it intrigued him that if he hadn't seen Harry with his own eyes and known he had been here for the last 24 hours he would never guess he lived here. There was no evidence of a second boy. No second child size coat hung on the hook, or art on the ice box and absolutely no pictures.

He moved silently up the stairs having placed all spells on himself a good distance away from the house and took a look. There was the master bedroom and obviously one that belonged to the son Dudley, and what must be a guest room for it didn't look lived in. He frowned as he entered the last room. He had expected it to be Harry's, but it was filled with broken toys and some books and in the corner were obviously bags of old clothes. But there we no trainers half under the bed and the bed itself was neatly made under the toys. A fine coating of dust covered a shelf of obviously unread classics. That begged the question:

Where did Harry sleep?

Come dinnertime Kingsley would wish he didn't know.

Kingsley had watched with his mouth set as Harry helped his Aunt prepare dinner, using the stove under her not so watchful eye. When her husband came home, she greeted him and the family sat down for dinner. Vernon, as Kingsley learned he was called, went on about a recent spree of carjackings and muggings, blaming degenerates and looking at Harry the whole while. Once dinner was cleaned up Petunia cleared her throat taping the mail she had been reading earlier against her palm. Both boys sat. Harry was expressionless, but Dudley's face carried a little smirk.

"I got they boys term reports today Vernon"

"Well let's see them," Dursley boomed," I want to see how our Dudders did."

Petunia looked down, "Mrs. Higgins says that Dudley needs summer school."

"That simply can't be right."

Harry lost his battle with his emotions and let out a little smirk. Vernon latched on to it. "Think it's funny do you boy" His voice was loud and the smirk vanished from Harry's face instantly

"Nooo," Harry said quickly

But Vernon had already grabbed Harry's report and seen the comment that the teacher was very proud of his progress this year. "Impossible," the big man blustered, "you must have switched the report you little brat,"

"But Uncle Vernon I..." Harry pleaded.

"Enough," Vernon bellowed, "I'll have no more of your lies about Dudley." He grabbed Harry by the ear and forcefully lifted him from his kitchen chair. "Into your cupboard now," he continued, and Kingsley could only watch shaking with his own rage as the man opened the cupboard under the stairs and Kingsley had just enough time to see a mattress on the floor before heard the muted thump of Harry falling against it. "No meals for a day. "You'll stay in there too, until you realize you can't use freaky tricks to make us think less of our Dudley."

It took Kingsley an entire recitation of the British Monarchy starting with William the Conqueror to calm down enough that he felt he could leave with some modicum of self-control. Luckily by then the three Dursleys were gathered in front of the telly and would not have heard him leave. Needing to do something with the heat and anger still coursing through him, Kingsley ran the two miles until he thought it was safe to apparate. He did so, removed the charms from himself, and then walked a short distance to his room.

He collapsed backward on the bed trying to still his racing heart.

* * *

_"Shacklebolt I need a word."_

_Kingsley looked up from his table surprised, but he cleared the chair next to him none the less and moved the stack of books to the floor. One did not say no when the Head Boy asked for a word. James sat with a huff still sweaty and obviously just from Quidditch Practice._

_He cocked his head to indicate he was listening and waited for Potter to continue. They had had little interaction besides the beginning of the year perfect meetings and opposite sides of the Quidditch pitch so Kingsley was curious._

_"Look you know Evans- Lily and I have to patrol every night from 10 to midnight right?" Kingsley nodded. "Tomorrow night I err-can't" Kingsley frowned at the non-excuse, but it wasn't unheard of to switch patrols he knew. "Look," Potter continued running a hand through his hair "I'll take your next patrol with Worthington if you.."_

_Kingsley raised an eyebrow, "I highly doubt either Lily or Professor McGonagall will be amused if you are skiving off of patrol to plan a prank Potter, " Kingsley replied coolly, "And if you think that just because I am a fifth year I will do whatever you ask, you have another thing coming"_

_"What no!," James got a look from Madame Pince and lowered his voice. "It's not for a prank. I can't tell you alright, I promised." He let out a frustrated sigh. "Look I asked you because I'm worried about the Slytherins. Lily and I have been having some trouble during our patrols."_

_"Lily can take care of herself."_

_"What, oh, of course she can," James smiled and was then serious again. More serious than Kingsley had ever seen him. "And so can you, I've seen you your casting 7th year Charms and Defense spells already with a decent amount of power. I'm not worried about Lily, but she can't afford to be with someone incompetent."_

_Kingsley was stunned into silence. He didn't think anyone had noticed. Potter seemed to take the silence as a need to be more convincing._

_"Like I said I'll take your next patrol with Worthington. When is that?"_

_Kingsley started, finding his voice, "I'll keep my patrol thanks." He spoke perhaps a bit too quickly._

_because James looked nonplussed, but then he shrugged and nodded. _

_"Thanks Shacklebolt, I owe you one. Oh, I meet Lily in the Entrance Hall at five till." He spoke over his shoulder and nearly bumped into the person who was intent on claiming his seat and behind a stack of books. "Oh hello there Worthington," he grinned at her catching some of the book as they toppled from their precarious pile and set them on the table. He turned and winked at Kingsley and then he was gone as quickly as he had come._


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Here's the next chapter. Thank you for all the reviews. Obviously I need to go back and edit at some point. Proofreading is not my strong suit. I'm never good at looking for a beta, but if you are interested let me know. Also some people wanted something to happen to the Dursleys. I didn't plan on it happening for a number of reasons, but it is something to think about. Let me know what you think about it if you haven't already.  
**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and I am not profiting in any way from the writing of this except as an escape from real life stressors.**

* * *

With difficulty Kingsley pulled himself from his memory. He and James had come to an implicit agreement that day and an unlikely friendship was born. He covered patrol for James which came to about once a month. And James... well James was James. Kingsley refused to trade patrols with him, but he knew that James was there if he needed him and that had included helping get his Mum set up overseas. Kingsley had known Lily could protect herself, and he had still felt the need to protect her. Her son couldn't and so Kingsley felt his obligation tenfold.

He sat for a moment contemplating his next move. Then he reached for the room telephone and made two calls. The first was to his housekeeper. Bea, to tell her that he would be home for the rest of his vacation and that he would be bringing a guest and that Hestia might be stopping by. The second was to the aforementioned witch who also happened to be one of his best friends.

"Jones," The curt business-like voice game over the phone.

"'Lo Hez, it's me."

"Don't call me that."

"You need a nick name," he joked. Then his voice softened. "Look Hez, I'm bringing some one back to Boxwood. One of ours; someone you'll know of, and it has to be hush-hush. It's..." here his voice broke..."it's bad-not physically I don't think, but mentally. And we're going to have to keep this quiet."

"Kings who?" All joking was gone from her voice.

"It's not secure line," was his only reply and he could almost see her rolling her eyes on the other end of the line. "We'll be there by tomorrow afternoon around lunch." Will you check the wards?

"Your wards are fine."

"Hestia," his voice was firm and now it was her Auror partner speaking. "Check them anyway."

"Okay, okay." she said placating him. "I'll see you tomorrow. Be careful."

"I will"

After he finished he went to the bed and conjured a lap desk. Then he pulled out his work briefcase. Since he could shrink it he never saw a point in going anywhere without it and he was glad now. Enlarging it he opened it and found the correct file and information. The Auror department had, thanks to some of the Muggleborns and quietness after the war, developed various organizations as fronts that allowed them to more easily blend into the Muggle world. Alastor Moody had been supportive as had Amelia Bones whom had taken the most interest, but it was really the brainchild of Kingsley and Hestia both of whom had a lot of exposure to the Muggle world. Finding the folder he needed Kingsley retrieved it. In navy folder in gold embossed letters across the front was the name JONES FOUNDATION FOR TROUBLED YOUTH. The folder was full of information on the work camp the foundation ran for troubled and delinquent youth that at Boxwood Farms. The best part was that they had done the legwork to set it up and if they looked, the Muggles would see that everything was legitimate. Pulling out a quill charmed to write in what looked like type print. Kingsley began to dictate across a blank piece of letterhead.

_Guardians of Harry J. Potter:_

_It has come to the attention of the Foundation that your nephew, Harry James Potter has some difficulty adapting in social situations..._

* * *

When he awoke the next morning, Kingsley was glad it was Saturday, which meant that it was likely that the Dursley's would be at home. He left early to rent a suitable dark-colored luxury sedan that he knew would appeal to the Dursleys obvious sense of importance. Those types of people were always the same. He also dressed in a Muggle suit and albeit reluctantly removed his earring. As long as he didn't use magic to get in he shouldn't trip any wards so he was being as Muggle as possible. Though the papers were prepared using magic to a small degree the residue would have dissipated overnight and the faint traces would be difficult even for Albus Dumbledore to pick up.

30 minutes later, he pulled into the driveway of number 4 Privet Drive and took a deep breath. He knew he needed to keep a tight rein on his emotions. He could not afford accidental magic. Shaking his head once to clear it he exited the car and made his way to the front door.

"Boy, get the door!" He heard the muffled yell. Kingsley heard the lock turn and saw peeking around the side the black hair and green eyes that he expected.

In his most soothing voice possible Kingsley addressed him. "Hello, I'd like to speak with your Uncle please."

The boy blinked, turned and scurried away.

The large man came to the door. "Come in, Come in," the man blustered. "I'm sorry my nephew just left you there." Kingsley didn't miss the nasty look Vernon shot at Harry who shrunk back slightly. "My nephew, he's a little slow," Dursley followed this with a grimace that Kingsley was sure was meant to elicit sympathy.

It didn't.

Kingsley waved the incident away as he settled in the offered chair. "Actually it was your nephew I wanted to talk to you about Mr. Dursley. I'm terribly sorry for calling on a Saturday, but we find that that is one of the best times to find people at home. You see I'm Mr. Shacklebolt and I represent the Jones Foundation for Troubled Youth. It has come to our attention that your nephew has had some," here he paused delicately, "difficult situations this year at school and we would like to offer a week of respite care." We'd like to give you and your wife a break as it were."

Vernon looked flustered. "Now see here," Vernon said, "We've tried our best with the boy, but there is no accounting for genetics and I won't have you people going soft on him after we've instilled more work ethic in him then his father ever had."

Kingsley nodded once channeling his disgust into giving a convincing performance. "Of course Mr. Dursley. We understand that you and your wife have done your best with what you have. We're here to offer additional resources. We understand that Mr. Potter is quite the prankster. Not only has he turned his teacher's hair blue, but he's ended up on the roof of the school kitchens.

"Now see here..." Vernon started again, but Kingsley held up a hand to stop him.

"I am on your side Mr. Dursley, "Kingsley soothed. "We would like a week with Harry to work with him and get a feel as to what programs would work best. Rest assured all programs include working on the farm. It is all right here." He finally pressed the folder into Vernon's hands. "Services are free of charge of course, and that includes a week's worth of uniforms. We find it best if the young men don't take anything with them."

Vernon looked down at the folder and then at Kingsley. You'll take him for the whole week, he insisted, "even if something funny happens,"

Kingsley waved the worry away. " You have our promise, it's all here in the contract we keep him for a week and you sign the [medical waivers] so that we can take him to the hospital if there is an accident and give insurance information and we are good to go."

Vernon pursed his lips, but signed the papers. He turned to Harry, apparently trying for the loving Uncle approach in front of a stranger. "Now listen here Harry", he spoke in what Kingsley suspected was supposed to be a kind voice, but was still harsh. Kingsley carefully watched Harry's face. It was blank. "This man is going to try to help you. I want you to go with him and behave. Try not to do anything funny."

The emphasis on the last word had Kingsley forcefully suppressing the urge to raise and an eyebrow. He clamped a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Come on then," he said firmly, "we have everything you could need at the farm. We'll see you in a week Mr. Dursley." He let himself out and didn't look back.

Kingsley kept a firm but gentle hand on Harry's shoulder as he led him to the passenger side of the door. Harry's face was carefully blank the entire time and Kingsley began to worry. A few minutes later as he pulled onto the highway, Kingsley racked his brain for things to say.

"So Harry, what kind of things do you like to do?"

Harry looked at him sideways,-"I like to read." he finally answered.

Kingsley smiled. "I liked to read at your age too. What is your favorite type of book to read?"

Harry shrugged, and Kingsley deflated at the silence. The silence lasted for the 30 minutes longer that it took to get to Boxwood.

As the wheels crunched on the gravel, Kingsley allowed himself to relax his watchful posture as they passed the gate and he felt the presence of the wards. He glanced over to see if his companion could feel them, but saw that the boy was asleep.

He exited the car and walked around to the other side, where he gently shook Harry awake, calling his name softly. The reaction he saw startled him for Harry was instantly awake and jumped out of the car landing quite nimbly on his feet and looking at Kingsley expectantly obviously waiting to be told what to do.

"Inside then, "Kingsley instructed gently, "My housekeeper will likely have lunch ready. Welcome to Boxwood."

Harry obviously only walked ahead of Kingsley because he had been told to do so with a gesture. Kingsley pulled open the door feeling it recognize his magic as he did so, and made a mental note to have that be the first thing he talked with Harry about after he talked about magic.

He held open the door and the boy scuttled under his arm. As he let the door swing shut behind him, he took a deep breath. As mostly devoid of magic as this place was he was home. The well-scrubbed entry way gave way to a large, bright, and airy kitchen. The stairs to the upper level branched off to the left and the family room was just beyond, as was a tiny mud room that led to outside.

Hestia and Bea were sitting at the table talking though both looked up when they entered. Bea took on the role of hostess easily and Kingsley could tell she had almost immediately lost her heart to the young boy.

"Hello dear, we're just about to sit down to lunch. Are you hungry?" Harry nodded mutely and Bea bustled to the counter bringing a platter of thick sandwiches. Hestia followed, bringing the bowl of crisps which joined the bowl of fruit already on the table.

"Milk, Harry?" Kingsley asked as he moved towards the icebox. At the boys nod he filled two of the waiting glasses with milk and the other two with water. He carried them to the table and mentioned for Harry to sit across from him.

"Tuck in then dear," Bea encouraged as Harry sat," eat up as much as you like. You look like you might be able to eat as much as Julius here."

He looked at her with a disbelieving stare. He reached for a sandwich before he finally burst out. "I thought your name was Kingsley."

Kingsley swallowed his own bite of food. "Oh it is," Kingsley assured him, "but my family has a habit of calling me by my middle name so they call me Julius. Sorry if it is confusing."

Harry shrugged and took another two bites of sandwich before he continued. "What should I call you?" he wondered.

"Kingsley is fine, although if you come up with a nickname you are welcome to use that too. We are big on nicknames here." He wasn't sure if he could explain to an eight year old why. Thankfully Harry didn't question him.

In the end it was a rather silent meal. Bea talked about the farm as he knew she would. Kingsley and Hestia let her talk as it was less likely that she would reveal the presence of magic. Harry did eat almost as much as Kingsley although if one was fair, Kingsley knew he hadn't eaten since sometime the previous day and it was past noon now. Two sandwiches, a plate full of crisps, a plumb, and a glass of milk later lunch was over and Harry was dutifully taking his dishes to the sink when it happened.

Hestia would later say it was one of those things you could see in slow motion. Harry stumbled over a nick in the wood floor and his plate and glass went crashing to the floor.

Except they didn't.

They floated to the ground in an almost perfect levitation charm. Two objects. At the same time. To say that Kingsley was amazed was putting it mildly.

As was saying that Harry was terrified.

He bolted like a startled pony. He was out the front door and looking around for somewhere to hide before Kingsley knew what was happening. Hestia was faster, calling after him. She found him trying to scoot himself under some bushes

Kingsley joined them at the bushes concerned. He squatted down, "Harry. It's all right it was an accident. The dishes aren't broken so no harm done." He very carefully and lightly brushed Harry's mind. Personally he found Legimency one of the distasteful parts of advanced Auror training, but he could not figure out what was wrong. He blinked at the overwhelming fear in the boy's mind. Fear that he would be sent back to his uncle and punished, fear that he had done something funny, fear of himself and what he could do even though he had no idea how he did it. What if he hurt someone like Dudley had started to do with his fists?

Kingsley tried to deal with the biggest fear first as he sank into the dirt not even bothering with the fact that he was still wearing his Muggle Suit. "Harry, I'm not going to send you back to your uncle for this. It was an accident and even if it wasn't I promised to keep you for a week. I know you don't know me all that well yet, but I always keep my promises."

Harry scooted up still concealed by the bush. "You'll ask me questions. I can't explain how I do it. You'll think I lied," his voice as defensive now.

"Actually I know exactly how you do it. I'd be happy to explain it to you if you want to come out. I know it can be confusing. When I was your age I got mad at my sister because she kept stealing the books I was reading and so they started to turn invisible when whenever she got near them." He chuckled at the memory. They also snapped closed on her hand, but no need to tell Harry that, it might scare him.

"You have mud all over your suit," Harry observed wisely.

Kingsley stayed seated and looked the boy up and down as he crawled out of the bushes and got to his feet. "So do you." He smiled to show that he wasn't angry.

"Help me up?" Kingsley offered a hand to the boy, "and we'll get cleaned up and I can explain things to you." Harry looked doubtful, although whether he doubted his ability to pull Kingsley up, getting an explanation, or both Kingsley wasn't sure. After a few tugs on his arm Kingsley propelled himself forward pretending to be almost thrown off his feet with the force of the pull. "Oof, you are strong" he gasped, and he was rewarded by a little boy giggle.

They headed back into the house but stopped on the porch as Harry was trying to get the leaves and branches out of his hair. Kingsley put a hand on his shoulder. "I can clean us up the same way you kept the dishes safe if you would like to see. If not, don't worry about the dirt too much. It'll clean off whatever it gets on."

Harry bit his lip and Kingsley could see the warring emotions across his face. Then his voice was quiet. "I don't want to make more work for whoever cleans up..." For a heart wrenching moment Kingsley realized he figured he would have to clean it up. Then he was brought back as the voice continued. "Can you show me?"

Kingsley felt a pleased grin fill his face. "Sure, I'll do myself first so you can see it better. With a quick _Scrougify_ the mud was gone from his own suit. He said the word out loud for Harry's benefit although he didn't use a wand in hopes that he would be less threatening. He raised a silent eyebrow in question and with an answering grin from the boy repeated the incantation on his clothes.

"Show off" both looked up to see Hestia leaning on the door frame from the porch to the house, but her smile took any sting out of the confrontation. "Come on you two, Bea just left tea and biscuits in the Library and I am sure Harry is bursting with questions.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Sorry for the wait guys. School starts tomorrow and between being in a new district and having to get my classroom ready I have been busy, Thanks for all the reviews. Here's a question: As it stand there is only one more chapter of this little story, that is to say it doesn't go up to Harry's Hogwarts letter. I am thinking of expanding it, but that would mean it would not be complete likely until November or December which is my next holiday break. I just can't commit to having the energy to write during school months. Let me know what you think I should do in a review and thanks for reading.  
**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and I am not profiting in any way from the writing of this except as an escape from real life stressors.**

* * *

Once they were settled in the library Harry turned to Kingsley. Again he seemed to be at war with himself, but then he took a deep breath and asked his question.

"Why'd Hestia call you a show off?"

Kingsley laughed, he couldn't help it. He shot Hestia a look over the boy's head and then collected himself. "Well Harry, I didn't use my wand to do magic, because I didn't want to scare you and usually that takes quite a bit of power hence, Hestia thought I was being a show off."

"Uncle Vernon says magic doesn't exist," Harry said halfheartedly. "And I don't have a wand so I can't have done magic either."

Kingsley considered this for a moment, but it was Hestia who spoke. "Children often do accidental magic at your age Harry which means they don't mean to and they don't have wands. You won't get a wand until you are eleven if you decide to go to Hogwarts a school for young witches and wizards."

"But Uncle Vernon says magic isn't real," the boy insisted, though Kingsley thought he detected a bit of longing in the voice.

"Okay," Kingsley said settling back into the couch. "Think about other things your Uncle has said. Are they all true? Think about something you can prove isn't true."

Harry smiled, "Oh that's easy, he tells Dudley that he is smarter than me, but the teachers always give me the higher marks. He thinks I cheat, But I know I don't."

Kingsley's heart squeezed painfully, but he pressed on. "That's right, I saw your record at the school and I know you are one of the top students in your class. Do you think he could be doing the same with magic? After all you saw me clean us up, and you can't explain the incident with the dishes, or turning your teacher's hair blue any other way." Kingsley let out a chuckle

Harry's eyes widened. "You know about that? That was magic! Then his eyes narrowed, "Wait you lied too you're not from any foundation. What do you want from me?"

Hestia spoke up now. "We don't want anything from you Harry, Kingsley saw you with your uncle and the way they treated you and he was worried. We wanted to give you a vacation from it all."

"How did you know that I had magic, it's not like I have a sign on my sleeve or something do I?"

_More like your forehead._

"No Harry I knew your parents and you look exceptionally like both of them and I knew your name and that your mother had a Muggle-that is non-magic sister and so I followed you. Once I was certain it was you I devised this plan." Kingsley decided to go for broke; Harry had had enough people hurt him. "I am sorry if you are upset that I lied to your Uncle although all the paper work is legitimate you're simply the only boy here. It's just from what I remembered your Aunt and Uncle don't like magic and so I knew if I was completely truthful they wouldn't let me see you. I thought they might even take it out on you and that is the last thing I wanted."

Harry opened and closed his mouth a few times and Kingsley thought that he had never seen a more conflicted little boy as the emotions raced across his face. Finally, as was the case with most young children curiosity won out over any anger.

"You knew my parents?" His voice shook and Hestia instinctively moved towards him. "Uncle Vernon said they died in a car crash, but I..." The boy started to sniffle and allowed Hestia to wrap him in her arms. "I remember a flash of green light and a scary laugh. Can magic kill you?" He looked at Kingsley imploringly almost begging that it not be true. Kingsley could only nod for the lump in his throat. Harry buried his head in Hestia's shoulder and began to cry.

Harry cried himself to sleep and they decided to leave him on the couch in the library to rest. Kingsley and Hestia both headed back to the kitchen somber and shaken. Kingsley couldn't get the stricken look on Harry's face when he had asked if magic could kill out of his mind and it troubled him.

"It's not right," Hestia said softly. "A child's first understanding of magic should be wonder not fear."

"I'm worried about the ramifications, Kingsley admitted."

"He can't go back there."

Kingsley nodded, I'll talk to Albus, but we best wait a few days before we go so that we can have a fuller picture. First thing tomorrow though we are going shopping for clothes. To think that boy is dressed in rags."

"What about taking him to a doctor?"

Kingsley looked at her. "His physical was up to date will all his immunizations," he said uncertainly.

"A nutritionist then," Hestia insisted. "He is far too skinny. And neither Lily nor James was that short."

"We don't know what they were like at eleven," he reminded her mildly.

She just looked at him and he let out a huff in resignation. The only mediwitch he could trust was Poppy Pomfrey or maybe Andromeda Tonks and he didn't want to alert Dumbledore until he had a better read on the situation. Andi would be better. He got up and went into his study to make the floo call, this was better done in person anyway.

Andromeda Black Tonks was still quite a formidable woman. One did not simply shed the mantle of being a Black, as much as she had disgusted what her parents stood for. Marrying Ted and having a daughter had softened her to a degree, but her face was still lined. Stress did that. She did not like the fact that Kingsley refused to tell her what exactly it was that was needed. The funny thing was that she trusted him though he was young. He had refused to judge her based on her name, or her house and he was exceedingly smart, but in a people way as well as a book way, which was rare for a Ravenclaw.

That Andromeda supposed was why she really trusted him. She had watched with interest from the sidelines as he had drawn out the personality of Elizabeth Worthington. A witch younger than Andromeda who had become much like the sisters she had lost when she was disowned. The Blacks had been acquaintances of the Worthingtons another pureblood and rich family, though the Worthingtons were carefully and pointedly neutral. Even to the point of accepting their daughter's relationship with a half blood.

It wasn't that simple of course. Kingsley's mother was the sole heiress to a wealthy pureblood Caribbean family that supplied wand wood to Olivander for generations, but then his mother had all but shunned to wizarding world until her children were of school age. Yet the match was a good one for a young daughter. She would be cared for monetarily and clearly loved and the young Kingsley had been charming. Andromeda had heard rumors of a life debt as well, but even if the Worthington's felt obligated to consent to the marriage because of that she doubted Kingsley would be the type to take advantage of such a situation.

So here she was. Standing in what was obviously his study facing the man himself. "Andromeda thanks you for coming, please have a seat. She heard the door open and saw Hestia Jones enter out of the corner of her eye.

Auror partners, interesting,

She raised an eyebrow at him and he began after a moment to choose his words carefully. "I've recently removed a young wizard from the home of his Muggle relatives due to neglect. For reasons that will become clear, I don't think it prudent to take him to St. Mungo's."

Andromeda pushed that aside for the moment. "What are we dealing with?"

Kingsley let out a breath. "Not too much physical abuse thank Merlin. But he is definitely malnourished and small. There was a pause. "And when he did some accidental magic earlier he was terrified of our reaction."

That stopped her next question a cold feeling wrapped in the pit of her stomach. "Is he afraid of his magic, she asked carefully.

Hestia spoke up now, "I don't think so, he seemed impressed when we showed him some, curious not frightened when he realized we didn't think him odd.

Andromeda nodded, Are you going to tell me his name?

Kingsley studied her intently again.

"I need your word Andromeda that this goes no further than this house. You can tell Ted if you must but the situation is fluid and I worry about the boy's safety."

Andromeda may not have been a Ravenclaw, but she had survived and been brought up in a very Slytherin family. "I see two Aurors caring for a child in distress. That means the two of you are in loco parentis according to my Healer's code. That's all I need to know.

The corner of Kingsley's mouth lifted. He hadn't said whether this was official or unofficial and she purposefully hadn't asked.

"The boy is Harry Potter Andromeda.

Kingsley left Andromeda to her thoughts as he went to wake Harry. "Now Harry, there is someone here to see you. She's a healer-that's like a doctor. She's just going to give you a checkup all right?"

Harry nodded mutely, and Kingsley tried putting a hand on his shoulder in reassurance.

As soon as they entered the room Andromeda took over in her official and brisk but kind manner. "Hello Harry I'm Healer Tonks." She held out her hand and he shook it staring at her with a bit of trepidation.

She smiled at him, "I have a daughter myself a little older than you." She came towards him. "You don't mind if I do magic do you? It'll make this a lot quicker and it won't hurt a bit." Harry nodded and she muttered a scanning spell. "Hold still," she admonished gently and Harry froze. He had been trying to turn his head to look at the light around him.

"This blue is your magical core, an interesting color perhaps, although all Potters are blue if I remember correctly. Nothing wrong with your magic then. Although Kingsley mentioned you'd shown some accidental magic when you tripped and dropped some dishes so there was little doubt." She chuckled. "I wish my Dora would do that she drops the dishes at least twice a week when she's home for holidays. I blame her father he's always quick to repair them."

Harry looked at the strange orange glow coming from his hands. "Am I supposed to have longer arms, he asked quizzically.

Andromeda chuckled and then was serious. Well yes Harry, although I suspect we can fix it with a potion. I don't suppose you ate well before you came here," she asked softly though it wasn't really a question.

Harry blushed and looked down studying the orange lines coming from his feet. "Well, I never had as much as Dudley. I wouldn't want to though," he said defensively, "he's huge!" Then the fight went out of him, "Usually when something funny- I think when I did magic-happened or I got in trouble I went without meals and got sent to my cupboard."

Kingsley saw only a brief flicker of furry in Andromeda Tonks eyes but he remembered in that moment that she was indeed a Black. And he was very glad that she did not have the location of the Dursley family.

"Well they were wrong Harry," she said quietly lifting his chin, "no child should go without a meal no matter what they did. Besides thinking that you can squash out magic like that is ridiculous, it only makes the magic harder to control. To think a Potter of all people being treated this way!" She trailed off at Harry's inquisitive look.

"Ah well, "Andromeda waved it away. "We can fix this and your magic will help it may take a little while. I'll have to get a stock of the potions for you. Under the radar obviously so I'll brew them at home. Someone will come and pick them up."

She packed up her bag. "I'll just apparate to the ministry for my shift now Kingsley, if you'll walk me to the edge of the wards."

Kingsley nodded and the duo left. "There was something you wanted to mention, I assume said Kingsley calmly as I happen to know you are off today."

Andromeda pursed her lips. "I am assuming you will eventually take this to Dumbledore." Kingsley's quick nod showed his affirmation. "I'll need to see him after you do. There is something off about the scar. It is magic I haven't seen in a long time but… She shook her head as if to clear it. It's not an immediate danger to the boy or to you, but it will need to be watched."

"Thank you Andromeda. I owe you one."

Her smile twisted. "Dora insists that she wants to be an Auror depending on how her OWLS go this year I may need you to try and talk her out of it."

Kingsley grimaced, but nodded. "I'll do my best."

Andromeda's answering nod was stiff and with a crack she was gone.

* * *

The following morning at breakfast Kingsley broached the subject of a shopping trip with Harry.

"I'd get clothes that fit?"

Kingsley managed just barely to not choke on his eggs. "Of course Harry. Everyone should have clothes that fit. Things that fit properly make people feel good about themselves and everyone deserves that."

The little boy just nodded and continued to drink his milk as Kingsley continued the tirade in his head.

_To think anyone doesn't have clothes to fit let alone a Potter. Nothing wrong with second hand, but these don't even fit. It didn't make sense, Petunia and Vernon obviously cared about what people thought of them, but anyone who saw the boy wouldn't... His thoughts darkened as he realized. Their fear of magic and determination to keep magic downtrodden was greater than their desire to seem normal and from the little Kingsley had observed that was quite a lot_

Hestia clearing her throat across the table brought him out of his musings. Harry had finished his breakfast and taken his dishes and empty potion bottles to the sink and was looking at him expectantly.

He shook his head to clear it. "Alright Harry, now we are going to stay in the Muggle world, but I still want to take some precautions. It is unlikely that we will run into anyone from the group of men that killed your parents but better safe than sorry okay?"

Harry nodded his eyes wide.

"The first thing we will do is hide your scar. That is easy enough." Kingsley's wand flicked up. "Hestia will be getting you a pair of magical glasses that adjust to your eyes so we will leave that for now." He eyed Harry's mop of hair and smiled. "I have just the thing for your hair. Come with me to the bathroom and we can have a little fun."

Harry let out his first genuine smile at that and fallowed Kingsley to his master bath. Kingsley picked him up and settled him quickly on the large counter as he reached for some hair gel. "Now the first rule of dealing with things that cause you trouble is play to their strength".

Harry nodded and then smiled again. Aunt Petunia tried to give me a bad haircut a few months ago. It was so horrible I didn't want to go to school the next morning." He shuddered at the memory. "I was nearly bald except for my bangs to hide my scar, but then in the morning it was all grown back." The boy giggled at the memory, then turned solemn. I did that didn't I? With my magic."

"You certainly did". Kingsley poked him in the stomach playfully. "Growing anything is hard business too. You are going to be one powerful wizard Mr. Potter." Harry giggled again, but didn't move away from the touch and Kingsley delighted to both see and hear it.

He picked up the bottle of gel and put some into his hands. "Your father's hair was always messy, just like yours. So we'll just pretend we want it to be messy and style it that way in spikes.

Harry seemed to screw up his face in confusion and Kingsley paused with his hands above Harry's head in case he did not want it. "Make it look messy on purpose? Aunt Petunia would have a cow," he said with the air of someone trying out a phrase he had heard once. Then he grinned. "It sounds great!"

Kingsley laughed then and moved his hands through the boy's hair spiking it. "Now the only question is what color do you want on the tips as a treat?"

"Red" the answer was automatic and Kingsley waved his wand while muttering "Figures bloody Gryffindors.

Harry froze at the rebuke as moking as it was. "I...I can choose something else."

"Kingsley's only joking," came Hestia's soft voice from the doorway startling Kingsley a bit. "Gryffindor was your parent's hose at school and mine too. The colors are red and gold. It's perfectly natural to be biased. Kingsley is just jealous, he was a Ravenclaw and they only won the Quidditch cup in our last year. So he didn't see nearly enough blue and bronze which were his colors.

"Hestia is right, champ," Kingsley smiled as he lifted Harry down from the counter. "It's your treat and therefore your choice."

Kingsley was surprised when Harry hugged him quickly around the middle and then was off like a shot to show Bea.

"Been there long?" Kingsley asked as he washed the gel from his hands. Hestia moved further into the bathroom to straighten the collar on his polo.

"Long enough to know that you are losing your heart to him. He's only going to be here for a week. If you were smart you'd erase all his memories of the week before you took him back to his uncle."

Kingsley froze and then deliberately smoothed down the hand towel he had just rehung. "You don't actually mean that."

"Kings, you know it is probably best for him to stay there, safest."

"Safe," he asked quietly. "Safe from what? From being hit and so withdrawn that Voldemort walks all over him or corrupts him? Regardless of who his parents were or that he is the Boy Who Lived, you've seen the power in him, he regrew a headful of hair for Merlin's sake."

"Says him."

"He has no reason to lie and you know it."

Hestia sighed, "I know I wish you weren't right, but we both know that if Harry grows up hating Muggles because of what his relatives have done…"

"or wizards for what we did not do," he interjected and she nodded her acceptance," then we could have another dark Lord on our hands and that would be bad."

Hestia put a hand on his arm. "I'll make an appointment with Dumbledore for Thursday which should give us time to get plans in place. I checked and he had guardianship if something happened to Sirius."

Kingsley nodded and followed her out of the room his mind spinning with worries.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Here's chapter 5. Thanks for the reviews and the opinions.  
**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and I am not profiting in any way from the writing of this except as an escape from real life stressors.**

* * *

The drive into London didn't take long and Harry seemed to have broken past his aversion to questions. Kingsley kept up a steady stream of talk mostly about what he did as an Auror (catch the bad guys) Quidditch, which Harry seemed to grasp quickly, much to Kingsley's amusement and, what it was like on the farm (which besides the wand wood orchard had an apple orchard, and a house garden, but was mostly used to raise horses0.

They reached the department store and went right in. Kingsley had nephews and they were younger than Harry, but in his one visit he seen enough clothes to last them well into their primary years. His sister lived in America and so some things were different. His brother in law and sister insisted that the twins dress neatly in jeans and slacks that fit well, and they often wore collared shirts. His brother in law Franklin had explained that it was because of how many would view young men of color, and appearance was important to avoid as much stereotyping as possible. It seem bias existed everywhere.

Kingsley didn't really understand it practically, but he could draw parallels to the concept. And it would reinforce the Dursley's view of the program anyway. Kingsley decided that it was best to start from the inside out in terms of layers so they began with underwear, undershirts and pajamas. With a little encouragement, Harry got a few pairs of PJ's featuring various cartoon animals that looked a bit like puppets and seemed to have a particular fondness for the redish pink one that was obviously banging on a drum set.

Next they were off to the trousers and shirts where they picked up three pairs of khaki slacks and three shirts, one in red, one in black, and one in yellow. Kingsley would use a sewing charm to add a camp logo to the corner of these and that should satisfy the Dursleys. Something small so that even if Harry had to return to the Dursley's they would let him wear them. If Harry ended up with him for longer they could come back. Finally he got two pair of jeans and a pack of white t shirts for working on the farm. To top it off was 3 flannel shirts. Though it was summer mornings and evenings could still be cool.

Lastly they visited the shoe department where Harry got socks and a pair of work boots, Kingsley couldn't help but grin as he saw Harry fall in love with and ask for a pair of bright red sneakers which he was more than happy to buy.

Harry seemed quiet as they exited with their bags, and Kingsley didn't want to push him, but also knew that he needed to talk things out. "Alright there Harry," he questioned as they put the bags in the boot and got in.

Harry got in and nodded, "It's just...what if they don't let me keep it. You spent all this money on me and I don't want it to be a waste."

Kingsley counted down from ten to control his anger at those _people_ and finished buckling his seat belt. Then he turned to the boy and tried to pour all his sincerity into the next words.

"Harry I will work it out with your relatives and if I can't then I will charm all your clothes to look like your old rags to the Dursley's. And you and everyone else will pull one over on them because you will be best dressed in the house."

Harry considered him for a moment. "Even Aunt Marge?" The boy seemed to shudder a bit as he said the name and Kingsley didn't like it.

"Even her," Kingsley replied, "Harry, I promise." To his relief Harry seemed to believe him and nothing more was said until Kingsley pulled into a small cafe for lunch. He passed Harry the potion bottle so the boy could drink it discreetly and then they went in.

Kingsley ordered a burger, chips, and a milkshake and was pleased when Harry timidly ordered the kids version of the same. He could already see the effects of the potion as Harry ate and talked about the different people they had seen at the store and in the short walk through a park that had taken them from the car to the cafe.

As they ate Harry's eyes constantly seemed to roam, taking everything in and Kingsley wondered if it was a habit of people watching to keep himself entertained or wanting to soak up the exposure to experiences he didn't get with his relatives. He had a feeling it was both and resolved all the more to win his point before Dumbledore.

As he took a final sip of his milkshake he noticed that Harry's eyes rested on a mother and her two sons in a booth across the aisle. There was a toddler trying to squirm away from the cloth attempting to clean his face and hands and another boy about Harry's age who was deeply engrossed in a book.

Kingsley noticed the cover and grinned. "I have that in the library at home if you would like to borrow it. I'd think you'd like it."

Harry nodded, "I picked it up once at school, but the paragraph on the back talked about magic and so I didn't dare bring it back with me."

Kingsley nodded as he paid the bill their waitress bought. "Well let's get back then. He checked his watch. We should get back just in time to help with afternoon chores and then you can read until dinner. Harry grinned at him and the two of them headed back to the car. Kingsley was grateful that the trip seemed to be bringing Harry out of his shell and that the potions seemed to be working as Harry napped all the way back to Boxwood. As he watched the boy's peaceful face he began to list out his points for Dumbledore and to imagine counter arguments.

* * *

Kingsley gently shook Harry awake. "Help me take things up stairs and we'll change into clothes more acceptable for farm chores okay?"

Harry nodded and took a bag in each and while Kingsley took the rest. They dumped the bags on the bed and Kingsley spoke. "Put on a pair of jeans, and t shirts and the work boots. You can leave the rest. I think Bea will probably want to wash it all."

Five minutes later they were both waiting by the mud room door. Kingsley's jeans were more faded, but then he'd been working on the farm for most of his life He tugged a faded green ball cap over his head and handed a red one to Harry. "Here this was mine when I was your age and I dug it out. It will keep the sun off your face."

As they walked to the barn Kingsley smiled. "Now luckily for us the stalls were mucked earlier, but you can help with that tomorrow morning." He let out a laugh at the look on Harry's face. The horses are out to pasture at the moment, but there is still some sweeping that needs to be done." The two started sweeping the areas of the stable not in the barn. It isn't difficult work, but it could be hot and sweaty and Kingsley made sure the stopped and drank plenty of water. As they moved on to sweep the tack room Kingsley asked, "So usually chores are in the morning starting at 4:30 and in the evening and they will take a few hours, but you will have plenty of time to yourself while you are here. " What would you like to do?

"I don't know, what do you do?"

Kingsley chuckled, "Now? I usually go to work. If I have a day off I read or play chess. Maybe you'd like to go to town and see a film?"

"Yes!" Harry answered excitedly, "and I don't mind reading-really I want to read that book we saw the boy reading." And here Harry paused in his sweeping and looked up shyly. "Would you teach me chess and about magic?"

Kingsley smiled gently. " Absolutely. I can't teach you actual magic, you'll need to wait until you are eleven and have a wand, but I can teach you history and theory and logic." Kingsley was serious. "That's very important for wizards Harry- a lot of them just think magic can solve anything, but it isn't always the best answer."

"Like when someone tries to explain why they did something wrong and make it seem not so bad or their fault when really it's just better to admit it and get the consequences over with."

Kingsley blinked and pondered that for a moment, saddened that such a small child could be wise in the way of people.

"That's right, if you did something wrong it often doesn't matter why you did it, even if you had good intentions, you still have to deal with the consequences." The boy began sweeping again and it was a moment before Kingsley formed the words to continue, " But Harry, if someone else does something wrong and you have to deal with the consequences at the time, remember when they do have to deal with the consequences themselves it will be worse the longer they had to wait."

He wasn't sure if Harry believed him, but it had to be said. He could tell the boy was thinking things over as they finished neatening the tack room and returned to the house where Bea was waiting with a snack. After that Harry asked to read the Lion the witch and the Wardrobe. Kingsley selected that and his copy of Hogwarts, A History. While the book only covered Hogwarts it did a thorough job of covering the time periods from the founding to the fall of Voldemort because the publishers knew many Muggleborns would buy it on name along looking for information.

He handed both books to Harry telling him as much. "If there is anything you want to know more about we can find a book on that topic too." Kingsley assured him. Kingsley was not surprised when he selected that book and sprawled on the couch to read. Kingsley joined him though his own book was about warding spells and their advanced theory.

After that they fell into a routine of sorts. Harry woke up and helped Kingsley and the two farm hands with the chores, and then consumed about two breakfasts worth of food. After breakfast, they settled in to play chess or talk about magic. In time Harry might be a decent chess player, but he didn't really have the patience for it. Kingsley was glad that they used the Muggle style set, he mentioned the wizarding ones to Harry and the boy had looked slightly green at the concept of the pieces bashing each other.

After lunch they did different things. They went into town to the cinema which Harry seemed to enjoy as much as any eight year old on a sugar high. He also seemed to like to explore the property and Kingsley gave him the space he seemed to crave especially on Wednesday, after he noticed that the book of magical history was lying finished on a side table. That evening as they were filling the evening feed. Harry asked quietly. "Why did You-Know-Who kill my parents? Kingsley sighed.

"First you should call him Voldemort. If I knew his birth name I would call him that. He wanted people to be afraid of him and being afraid of the name did a good job of it."

Harry nodded and asked again, "Why did Voldemort kill my parents?"

Kingsley noticed that his tone hadn't changed, but there was a difference to reading about something happening and witnessing it first or second hand.

"I don't know exactly, but I can guess. There are people who can trace their magic back many generations these are so called purebloods. There are others who first hear of magic when they get their Hogwarts letters at the age of 11. These are Muggleborns. Some people, generally the older families, but not always, think that magic should be kept in the purebloods, that Muggleborns somehow stole magic and that if a witch or wizard marries a Muggle or even another Muggleborn that they are dirtying their magic."

Harry looked at him and said with unfaltering eight year old logic, "That's stupid."

Despite the subject matter Kingsley laughed. "Oh, I agree and so do most people, but the thing to understand is that sometimes when people believe really strongly in something they justify acting badly to get what they want and that is what happened to Voldemort and his followers. Some were strong in magic and some were not, but they did whatever it took to support their message including killing."

"When your Mum and Dad were Head Boy and Girl they stood against that. Not only were they a testament that power existed regardless of blood- your father was a pureblood your Mum a Muggleborn, but they were both powerful and they stood up for what they believed in without being evil."

"But eventually it got so that people on the side of the Light so to speak, had to fight back and so they did. I'm not sure how or why it happened but the more they fought against him the more Voldemort wanted them dead." They had excited the barn and Kingsley had turned them towards the property line so they could have some privacy. "Your parents were supposed to be hiding, but Voldemort was used to getting what he wanted and so he found them."

They paused, and Kingsley gently lifted Harry so he could look him in the eye. "I suppose Voldemort wanted to make a clean go of it, because he tried to kill you too. It didn't work. All it gave you was this scar. It cost him his life."

"I was just a baby," Harry's voice was raspy and full of tears. "If my parents were so powerful and they couldn't defeat him," he trailed off and swallowed forcefully.

"I reckon they knew," Kingsley swallowed around the lump in his own throat. "They knew, that in the end protecting you was more important than defeating him."

"But if they had defeated him they would still be here now, and I would be safe anyway". He buried his head in Kingsley's chest and Kingsley's arms settled more securely around them as he felt silent sobs.

"I used to be try and be angry at them for leaving me, but then I would have the dream about the green light and I would feel this warm glow like sunshine, when it tried to hit, and I would wake up happier."

"Your parents loved you Harry, and they protected you with their last breaths because they weren't certain they could defeat him, but they had to try everything to protect you. They loved you and that is more powerful than any spell."

"It's high magic." The reply after a few moments was still muffled in the fabric of Kingsley's shirt, but it was clear enough.

"That's right," Kingsley was surprised, he hadn't realized that Harry had been reading the other book as well.

Harry wiped at his tears with his fingers until Kingsley handed him a handkerchief. The boy smiled at him if a bit unsteadily, and Kingsley hugged him again and ruffled his hair. "These things are hard Champ, but you'll get through them."

"I'll be brave like my parents," he quipped happily. "Alas," Kingsley joked as he swung him down from his perch on the fence "Another hotshot Gryffindor despite my best efforts to make you a Ravenclaw." He smiled to let Harry know he was joking and then continued, "how about a bath and some ice cream and then I find my old book of magical children's stories. I'll read you my favorite."

"I bet I'll get there before you!" Harry yelled as he took off, and laughing Kingsley took off after him.


End file.
